


Ms. Molly

by tradescant (tofty)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-08-06
Updated: 2003-08-06
Packaged: 2017-10-15 09:36:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,405
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/159473
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tofty/pseuds/tradescant
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arthur instructs Molly in Muggle ways.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ms. Molly

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Telanu as part of a drabble challenge.

The Burrow was leaning when they bought it. It was old and shabby when they bought it. Molly'd thought she was going to burst into tears when she saw it for the first time (Arthur showing her proudly over its three little rooms as though it were marble floors and gilded wainscoting instead of splintery planks and rough plaster). But Arthur had a way of talking about some things with a joy that made you as excited as he was, and made you forget that you'd ever wanted anything else.

And so Molly's ideas of lovely gardens and deluxe broom closets had been replaced that afternoon by gnomes in the cabbage and a set of hooks by the kitchen door and a little shed for Arthur's hobbies, and then a tiny lean-to addition cobbled haphazardly on to the bedroom when the baby came, and it all seemed natural now to Molly, sitting in the bedroom rocking chair nursing Billy, as though they had lived there forever, and sometimes as though they were going to live there forever, even though of course they had plans to move as soon as Billy was big enough, as soon as Arthur got his promotion, as soon as they opened their savings account for the Hogwarts fees.

Also natural that she could hear Arthur over the wireless set but not see him, not finishing the washing up any more but fumbling about the lounge. Not natural in a good way, though, because she'd learned that Arthur fumbling for anything was a bit of a recipe for disaster, so she carefully pushed away from the chair, Bill still suckling sleepily at her breast, and crept into the lounge, where she could keep her eye on him.

He was kneeling at the fireplace, head half in the open hearth, peering up the chimney shaft as if he could see anything more than black sky. "Arthur," she whispered, so as not to disturb Billy. He jumped and grazed the back of his head against the stone. "What on earth are you doing? It's nearly time to get ready for bed, and if you get any farther up that chimney, you'll need another bath."

Merlin, that look, mischievous and guilty as a naughty schoolboy. Caught, he was. "Right, Arthur, what have you been up to?"

"Nothing, sweet. Honestly, nothing. Just checking to see that the chimney's safe, no birds nesting, that sort of thing, you see. Er, just making sure we don't have any nasty surprises the next time we light a fire."

"What, in three months? It's July."

"Oh, well, love, as to that, I came across the most interesting thing today at the office. Most interesting. Yes."

"Arthur." She made her voice as stern as she could at such a low pitch and glared at him, just in case he could see her face in the dim glow of the lamp in the corner. "You get up from that hearth right now. No muggle fireplace contraptions that might blow up my house. No. No."

"Molly." From mischief to injury in a single instant. He stepped closer to her, and she could smell the soot on him, see a smut on his cheek. Definitely another bath for him, curse everything. She'd already put her wand away for the night. "It's not a _thing_ , really, so much as an _idea_. It's a thing that muggles do, that I'm wondering if maybe you should do. We should do."

"What in Circe's name are you talking about?" He voice rose a little and Billy stirred from his mostly-asleep-now state. She dropped her voice back down to a hiss. "I am not doing a muggle thing to do with fireplaces. I am not, Arthur, do you hear me? " In her experience, muggles were much too incompetent to manage anything so dangerous as fire properly. Not another Muggle debacle at The Burrows; even Arthur's expert supervision often couldn't prevent disaster. "No!"

"Let me just tell you, Molly. It's fascinating." He took her arm and led her to the chair in the corner, snug about the hips a little after Billy, and sat on the little footstool in front of her. "The muggles have this thing called Libation, see. It's for, you know, women."

She said nothing.

"Now, Molly, there're muggles who think that women can do anything that men can do, and they want the chance to do it, and they are fighting for their rights. Part of the fight is that they burn their..." He made a sort of helpless gesture at her.

"Their...what?" Her bad feeling about this whole fire thing was not getting any better.

"Well, their..." this time he aimed his gesture at the center of her chest.

"ARTHUR WEASLEY, YOU ARE NOT SERIOUSLY SUGGESTING -- SURELY NOT EVEN MUGGLES WOULD BURN THEIR BABIES!" Billy jumped at her screech and started to cry, and she jumped as well, up to joggle him and soothe him and calm him for bed. Arthur jumped too. As she paced her way slowly back to the bedroom, he followed her, back and forth, and over Billy's cries, he tried to continue.

"Molly! --Of course I wouldn't say something like that! --And of course muggles don't burn their babies! --Not most of them, anyway," he added dubiously, and Molly pressed her lips, hard, into what she was reasonably sure was a thin seam. "Look, Molly, the point is that you've got it all wrong. They don't burn their babies, all they burn is their...er..." His voice dropped. "Theyburntheirbrassieres." He paused, and she turned, and they both bent their heads to stare at hers in astonishment as it peeked through her open bodice and around Billy's tiny body; the nursing flap was still unbuttoned. "And, er, then I think they drink or something, that must be where the libation part comes in, but Ferdie Fothergill didn't mention that part."

Molly was so mystified she forgot about being angry and almost dropped Billy, who was finally settling back to sleep. "They do what? What on earth?" She laid him in the crib and tucked him up.

"They burn their brassieres, love." Even in this light, she could tell he was blushing.

"Why would anyone burn perfectly good clothing on a pub crawl?" She walked back into the lounge, buttoning as she went, and by the time she sat back down in her chair, she was fully dressed, no brassiere in sight. Arthur, still blushing and mildly disappointed, perched again on the footstool.

"Well, it's a sort of symbol. Women wear them but men don't have to, and when they burn them muggle women are trying to say that they don't want to be or do anything that men don't have to do. They want jobs and things, too."

"Well...and then they get drunk because that's what Muggle men do?"

"I suppose that's it, yeah."

Great Merlin's ghost.

"Arthur," Molly said, choosing her words carefully. "I really like my brassieres. They're comfortable and pretty." They were, too, not particularly new or fancy, but the cotton was soft and the satin ribbons warmed against her skin in the nicest way. "And they stop me leaking all over my dresses, now, I mean. And I don't want a job. I like being here at The Burrow, very much." With amazement, she realized this was really true as well; she did love the Burrow. "I don't want any job but taking care of you and Billy, and you know drink makes me ill." Arthur's face, both startled and embarrassed, told her that clearly he hadn't thought this matter of women's Libation out very far.

"Well, I just." Arthur stopped, and the blush was fiercer than ever. He stared at his knees. "I just. Thought it would be nice to see you without one. Sometimes. You know."

"Oh, Arthur." Now everything made sense. She stood up again, and began unbuttoning the front of her dress, reached in to untie the ribbon at her back. Giggling at him, she pulled one arm through the sleeve of her dress, then the other, pulled the bra off and dropped it on the floor. Pushed her arms back through the sleeves of her dress, buttoned it right back up, pulled Arthur to his feet. Placed his hand on her breast. "You don't need a fire to get that. Just ask." And then she stopped laughing and kissed him.


End file.
